The New Adventures of Alyson Winchester
by WaywardDaughter18
Summary: Alyson is a Winchester, which means she should be an amazing hunter, right? Wrong- all she wants is to be a normal teenager with a normal life. This is a re-write of 'The Adventures of Alyson Winchester', an AU SisFic. Content Warnings for swearing, violence, underage drinking, angst, fluff, and disciplinary spanking of a teenager. If any these will bother you, do not read.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi all! This is a re-write of my fic 'The Adventures of Alyson Winchester'. I started writing about Sam and Dean's little sister Alyson in the spring of 2016 and published this story in June of that year. Since then, I've published almost 40 stories about Aly at different ages. When I first started writing, I had barely seen any of Supernatural-I started watching it at the beginning of 2016, so I didn't know a lot of detail about Azazael or things that happened in later seasons. With every fic I write and publish, the Aly-verse has changed bit by bit, and I feel like Alyson and her family and their relationships have evolved and grown since I started. I wanted to re-write 'The Adventures of...' to reflect those changes and I will be adding some different elements as well. I want parts of the story to be different, and I want things to really reflect how I see Aly and her life. If you're a fan of Alyson and you've read her other fics, I hope you enjoy the re-write, please let me know, and if you're new to my fics, I hope you like what you read. Thanks to Alexofthegarden, CrzedPanda, and Edge_of_Clairvoyance for beta-ing!**

**This is an AU SisFic. Content Warnings for swearing, violence, underage drinking, angst, fluff, and disciplinary spanking of a teenager- so if that's not your thing, don't read, or skip those parts of the story.**

**Alyson is 8 years younger than Sam and 12 years younger than Dean. In this fic, she is 14 years old, which makes Sam 22 years old and Dean 26 years old. If this is your first introduction to Alyson and you want to read more, please take a look at my page, there are many short stories about Aly at different ages. **

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I just wanted someone to pay attention to me. I wanted someone to really look at me, and listen to what I was saying. Sometimes I wanted to just stand there and scream, or just take off running and keep going, to see how far away I could get from them before they would actually notice. Or would they even come after me?

See, for my family, it was the hunt that mattered, the Goddamned hunt for all the nasty supernatural creatures that harmed people. Dad had finally pinpointed the thing that had killed our Mom a few years ago, a demon. And when he had announced that he was figuring out how to track it and kill it, both my brothers' eyes had lit up with that same obsessive fire that had been in our Dad's eyes for years now.

You've probably heard of the Winchesters- badass hunters. Monsters run the other way when they hear that the Winchesters are in town. My father, John Winchester, is well known for his fanatical attention to detail and his ability to track and capture any supernatural creature. My brothers, Sam and Dean, are a crack team of "brains and brawn"- Sam's the expert researcher and Dean's the expert hunter. Dad trained them to do everything, but Sam prefers books and lore while Dean prefers to be out in the field hunting.

And then there's me, the little sister. Dad had tried to train me to be a hunter, when I was younger, and it was clear that I wasn't cut out for it. I was clumsy and small. When he tried to teach me how to spar with the boys, I ended up getting hurt and I was too timid to swing at them. I had bad aim and no sense of direction. The loudness of a gun going off had me clapping my hands to my ears in shock, dropping the weapon and earning a spanking right there in the middle of the woods. I could track a little bit, but like I said, had no sense of direction, so if I went out into the forest I'd probably get lost and end up needing to be tracked myself.

For the past few years, Dad had been out more, researching and putting clues together about the demon that killed Mom as well as whatever monster he was hunting that week. And that meant that he left Dean in charge. And it seemed that the older I got, the more Dean cracked down on me. No more easy-going big brother, with tickles and little gifts of chocolate bars, he was strict and stern and serious. He didn't let anything go, and he expected me to toe the line as far as my behavior, just like Dad had expected of my brothers when they were younger. Sam had been my best friend when I was little, now he mostly tried to run interference with me and Dean.

The two of them also went out hunting a lot more now than they had when I was younger, because I was old enough that I didn't need a babysitter for overnights. I helped with research and I was pretty good at translating Latin, and Dad had let me start helping with things like occasional weapons maintenance and re-stocking the duffles. Mostly, I took care of the household stuff, cooking meals and cleaning, so that they could concentrate on the hunt. When I was younger Dad would say, "We're a team, and we each have a part to play to make things run smoothly," but I think he was just trying to make me feel better about doing chores. I do the mundane, behind the scenes stuff, while they're the ones who actually fight the monsters and save lives. And that's what really matters- "Saving People, Hunting Things". It's become our unofficial family motto.

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I heard the low rumble of the Impala's engine as it pulled up in front of our rented house, and then car doors slamming and the keys in the lock.

"Hey, short stuff," Dean said off-handedly as he came in, slinging a large canvas duffel bag onto the floor.

Sam followed him, eyeing me to assess my mood and see if he could give me a hug. He's always been the best at reading me, he and I have a special connection that's different from Dean and me. They both had grown up taking care of me, but for Dean it was more about the responsibility of it, whereas with Sam, he actually took the time to befriend me and play with me and the like.

Sam came over. "Hey Aly, missed you," he said, reaching out and squeezing my arm. I was feeling prickly today and it probably showed on my face.

Dad was laden down with a couple of bulky duffles and the cooler, and I hurried forward to help him. I took the bags from him, and he nodded in greeting. "Hey, kiddo, thanks," he said gruffly. I set the duffles over where Dean had dropped his as Dad disappeared to take the cooler into the kitchen.

He came back to the living room. "Dammit, Alyson, where's dinner? I _told_ you when we were going to be home," he growled. His eyes were tired and he looked stressed. He was usually grumpy when they returned from hunts these days.

I did the majority of the cooking for us now, it was something I could do well, and I enjoyed it, but his grouching hurt my feelings. "Oh, I'm sorry. I lost track of time between all the _studying _I have to do and the _million_ chores you dumped on me!"

"You want to watch your tone," he warned, "It looks like you've been slacking on the chores as well, there are still dishes in the sink! Did you at least fill up the shotgun shells?"

"Yes, all three thousand, five hundred eighty-seven of them," I sighed and rolled my eyes.

He sighed angrily in response. "Knock off the melodrama," he snapped, "You know I expect your chores to be done when we get back from a hunt."

"Right, because that's all that matters, isn't it? Chores and hunting. Never mind, 'How was your weekend, Alyson? Get that book report finished? Did you enjoy being alone for three days?'" I turned to stomp out of the room, barely registering Dad's stunned face. Sam caught my eye as I passed him and gave me a sympathetic look.

I heard Dean say, "Hey, Dad, cut her some slack-" before I closed my door.

I tried to start studying, but I was too keyed up now. I paced for a few minutes and then sat down on my bed and tried to concentrate on my math book, hoping that would make my anger dissipate.

Eventually someone knocked on my door, and Dean leaned his head in. "I ordered some pizzas, c'mon."

I set my book to the side and crossed the room to him.

"Pizza's good, but I was really hoping you had made your meatloaf tonight. I've been craving it recently," he slung his arm around my shoulders as we walked to the kitchen.

"Noted," I told him, "I can make it later."

There was one pizza box on the counter and one on the kitchen table. Sam and Dad were already seated, and Sam held up a plate with a slice of pepperoni and sausage, which was my favorite.

I took it and sat down next to him. "Thanks."

Dean grabbed a beer out of the cooler on the floor and sat down on the other side of me. After several seconds of silence, he cleared his throat. I glanced up to see him giving Dad a _look_ and nodding at me.

Dad set his pizza down. "So, Alyson, how, uh, how's school been going?" His voice was uncomfortable.

"Fine," I replied curtly.

Dad glanced at Dean and then Sam. "Got some of those cookies you like for dessert," he lifted the lid of the pizza box and pulled out a small cardboard container. The place that we ordered pizza from sold fresh-baked cookies on the premises as well.

I guessed that my brothers had tried to talk to Dad about being nice to me. The cookies were probably Dean's idea, he always used to bring me a candy bar whenever he could. "Thanks."

Dad sighed, and then got up to grab a napkin off the counter. As he sat down again, he said, "We've got another hunt coming up this weekend."

"_Another_ one? But-you just got back!" I protested.

He raised his eyebrows at my protest- people don't question John Winchester. "Because we have a hunt, that's why! What's the problem?"

"I _told_ you last week, the Fine Arts Festival is this weekend and we're singing in it and then we have the audition for County Choir. You're not even going to be here? I've been _talking_ about this for _weeks!"_ I was hurt, again. I had been excited that my family was going to be able to watch me perform. "Can't Sam stay here with me and go to the concert?"

Dad shook his head. "It's an all hands on deck kind of thing. We're meeting up with some other hunters Friday."

"Well that's just _great._ Enjoy your hunt!" I snapped.

Dad shifted in his chair and pointed at me. "Listen, young lady, I've had just about _enough_ of your mouth for one evening! Keep it up, and I will take you to Bobby's for the weekend, no matter _what_ your plans are!"

He glared at me, and I glared back, but I couldn't keep it up. Dad is the master of the Winchester Glare, and I dropped my eyes to my lap after a few moments.

We sat in uncomfortable silence for several minutes as we all ate.

"Is the audition the same day as your program?" Sam asked me.

"Yeah, we're going to sing in the morning and then meet over at the high school in the afternoon for the audition. I'm going to get a ride with Jenny for both," I looked at Dad, "Is that okay?"

"All right," he nodded. "I want you home before dark. No friends over and you don't go anywhere without asking for permission. Call us to check in every couple hours."

"I know the drill!" I huffed, "You don't have to keep telling me!"

Dad's face got hard, and a muscle in his jaw twitched. I knew then that I had pushed too far. He leaned forward, his eyebrows down, and gritted out, "_Lose -the -attitude -NOW-or-_ _else."_

I knew not to respond with something sassy like 'Or else what?'- that would just be signing a death warrant for my butt. Instead, I dropped my eyes again, feeling my face get hot, and mumbled, "Yessir."

He stood up and carried his dish over to the sink. "I'm going to take a shower. Boys, get the dirty clothes sorted tonight, and then go through the weapons duffle."

"Yes sir," my brothers replied in stereo.

When we had finished eating, I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher hurriedly. I had meant to earlier, but had forgotten. Dishes are one thing I don't mind doing, because I can do it pretty quickly. I went back to my room and sat down on the bed to study.

I left the door open and listened to my brothers moving around in the living room and talking with each other. They had probably spread the guns out on the coffee table to clean them, it was standard protocol after a hunt.

I heard someone clear their throat and looked up. Dad stood in the doorway uneasily. "This, uh, concert... it's not the only one this year?" He was looking at the floor.

"No, there's going to be an end of the year concert in June," I told him.

He raised his head and looked at me. "I did forget, Alyson, I'm sorry. This hunt came up all of a sudden, and like I said, it's a big one. There's a huge nest of vampires and we need a lot of people there to clear it out," he rubbed his chin, which was still stubbly- he'd forgotten to shave. "I'll make sure I come to the concert in June."

"Sure," I replied. Don't cry, don't cry, I told myself. I was so used to him snapping at me these days, or not really being present when I talked to him, that when he was actually nice to me, it made me well up. I blinked rapidly to clear my eyes- Dad had apologized for forgetting, and that was _big_. It was rare of him to admit something like that, and I knew I should thank him or say something-_anything_\- but I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth, but then closed it, because I couldn't think of how to start.

He gave me a brief smile, but his eyes looked melancholy. "I'll... let you get back to studying."

I nodded. I wished I could run to him and hug him like I used to. When I was little, he'd swing me up in the air and I would squeal with laughter. I had been too big to do that for a while now. I wasn't really big on hugging anymore anyway.

"Hit the rack by twenty-two thirty," he told me as he turned to leave.

"Okay, g' night," I called, but he was already gone.

Sam came into my room a short while later and sat on the foot of my bed. "I saw that there's a new Margaret Atwood out. Want me to pick it up for you this weekend?"

"Sam, you don't have to bribe me with stuff."

"I'm not, I know you like her books and I'm just trying to be nice."

"You're just trying to make up for Dad being such a bear all the time."

He shrugged. "Maybe a little. He's just worried about you staying safe."

"Well, he has a funny way of showing it!"

"He's ex-military, Aly. And believe me, you got a lot more affection from him than Dean or I ever did when were were younger. You're the one who stopped wanting that, and it confused him," he reached out and put his hand on my ankle, "Make sure you be careful this weekend, okay?"

"I'm always careful, dude," I said, closing my book, "I need to go to bed."

He stood up, came over to me, and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. "'Night, Alybug."

I put my arms around him, and he hugged me back. "Good night, Sammy."

_The hot summer sun was just reaching the horizon when I heard the familiar rumble of the car. I would know that sound anywhere, I had grown up listening to the vibrations lull me to sleep as we drove from one motel to the next, and the back seat was my home away from home._

"_Uncle Bobby, they're here!" I exclaimed, standing up and brushing the dust off of my hands. I had been drawing in the dirt with a stick, in the area in front of the open garage while he worked on a car engine._

_He grunted from underneath the car and then slid out. Tools clattered behind me as I walked over towards the entryway._

"_Hang back, kid," Uncle Bobby called to me._

_I stood still while the black Impala pulled into the yard. There was a thin layer of dried mud coating most of the lower half of it, and I knew that my big brother Dean would want to wash the car as soon as he could- he took care of the car almost as good as he took care of me._

_The front passenger door opened and Dean got out, flashed a big grin, and squatted down, opening his arms._

"_Dean!" I ran to him, and he grabbed me up in a hug, standing up as I threw my arms around his neck._

"_Heya, short stuff," he said happily, tickling my sides until I wriggled and shrieked._

_He leaned forward and pretended to drop me, and then swung me back and forth. "Catch, Sammy!" He held me out, and then Sam was there with his arms underneath me, and I "landed" in his embrace. _

_I threw my arms around Sam and kissed his cheek. "I missed you!"_

_He had just started going out hunting with Daddy and Dean instead of taking care of me at whatever motel we were staying in. "Missed you too, Alybug!"_

"_Didja catch any deers?" I asked._

_Sam glanced at Dean and something passed between them. "Uh, no, not any deer," he said, and gave an odd chuckle._

_I felt hands on my sides as I was pulled out of Sam's arms, and then I was being crushed into Daddy's flannel chest. He smelled like sweat and campfire smoke and pine trees. "Daddy!" I gasped as he loosened his arms._

"_There's my girl!" He kissed my forehead, and I felt his hand on the back of my head. "Were you good for Uncle Bobby?"_

_I nodded. "Uh huh, guess what, he made beef stew for dinner an' I got to help! An' I made the biscuits mostly! I got to roll them out!"_

"_I can't wait to eat them, I'm sure they're delicious," Daddy kissed me again, and then set me down._

"_Man, I can't wait to get inside and take a real shower," Dean said enthusiastically, "That cabin had no indoor plumbing, it _sucked!"

_Daddy walked around to the trunk and opened it. "Grab your things, boys. Showers first, and then weapons cleaning after dinner."_

"_Yessir," Dean replied dutifully, going over and grabbing some duffles. _

_Sam followed him, and I followed Sam. "Did you find me any pine cones or acorns?" _

_He glanced down at me, shouldering a duffle. "Uh, not this time, Aly. We didn't- there wasn't time to stop and look."_

_Daddy began to walk towards the house with Uncle Bobby. I heard him ask, "How did it go?"_

_Daddy's deeper voice replied, "Ray has a lot of knowledge, thanks for setting us up with him."_

_Once we were all inside, my brothers took their duffles upstairs to unpack and shower. Uncle Bobby got out two glasses and a tall bottle filled with brown liquid, and poured some in both glasses, then he handed one to Daddy._

_Daddy was leaning against the counter, and he took a deep swallow. I walked over to him and held my arms up. "Pick me up!" I demanded._

_He chuckled. "Just like when you were a toddler," he shook his head, and then glanced at Uncle Bobby, who was at the stove stirring the stew. "Go play, Aly, I want to talk to your uncle."_

_I pouted. "But Daddyyy-"_

"_We can talk later, John, this one's been anxious about you comin' back all day, just wantin' to see you. All she's talked about is how much she missed y'all and how much she wanted to hug all' a you." Uncle Bobby waved the ladle at us._

_Daddy sighed, took another drink, and set the glass on the counter. "All right, you," he leaned down and picked me up. "Tell me about your weekend."_

_I snuggled into his flannel. "It was kinda boring. I missed you. We watched movies a lot an' I practiced writing my name!" I was going to go to 'Big Kid's School' in the fall, and Sam had been working with me on how to read and write my name._

_I felt Daddy chuckle in his chest. I looked up at him. "I was brave this time an' didn't cry at bedtime like last time!"_

_I felt his hand in my hair, stroking it back from my face, and he smiled down at me. "Oh, that's great, I'm proud of you!" He walked us over to the table and sat down, setting me on his lap. "What movies did you watch?"_

"_Um, Hunnerd an' One Dalmatians, an' Charlotte's Web-"_

"_Twice," Uncle Bobby piped up, and Daddy chuckled. "She's been obsessed with that movie lately."_

"_Can I have a pet pig like Wilbur?"_

_Both of them laughed. "No, pigs aren't pets, and they grow to be very big. They belong on farms."_

"_Will you read to me tonight?" I played with the buttons on the front of Daddy's shirt._

"_I thought that was your thing with Sam."_

"_I just want you to do it," I laid my head on his chest and slid my arms around him, happy that he was finally back from hunting._

_He stroked my hair again. "All right, Pumpkin, I will."_

I woke up feeling nostalgic. It had been a long time since I'd dreamed about when I was younger. At first, Dad had taken Dean out hunting and left Sam to watch me, and then he'd decided to start training Sam as well, which meant that they had to do something with me. I got left with neighbors a couple of times, which didn't always go well, and then Dad decided he could only trust other hunters who were family friends. It was tough for me when all three of them left, and back then I went through periods of being insecure and shy. They had all been pretty protective of me when I was small, which had brought us closer together, so when they left for days it was hard.

When I went out to the living room, Dean was asleep on the sofa. Even though this house had three bedrooms, each room only had one bed. Both my brothers are over six feet tall so there was no way that they'd fit in a double bed together. They switched off sleeping in the bed and on the sofa when they were home.

I quietly made myself breakfast and then went to my room to gather my things for school. When I came back out to the living room, Dean was sitting up, yawning. "Hey, Aly," he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled at me.

I was overcome with another wave of nostalgia, and walked over to him. "Good morning," I said shyly, and I leaned down to hug him.

"Hey, g'morning," he hugged me back, giving me a tight squeeze. When I let go and stood up, he was looking up at me with genuine happiness on his face.

"What?" I asked, adjusting my backpack on my shoulder.

"It's just- I dunno, it's been a while since you hugged me like that." He scratched his head. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I—I had a dream, and it made me remember when I was little, and I felt-" I shrugged, not knowing how to explain it to him.

"Was it a good dream?"

I nodded. "Yeah, like remembering I'd stay with Uncle Bobby and you guys would come back from a hunt and all." My cell phone alert chimed, and I pulled it out and pressed a button. "I gotta go to the bus stop. Seeya."

"Okay, have a good day, kiddo."

When I walked into the house that afternoon, my brothers and Dad were in the kitchen, looking over a paper map that was spread out over the table.

Dad glanced at his watch. "Why are you late?" he growled.

"I stayed after to go over some stuff about the concert."

He glared at me. "I don't recall you asking permission for that, young lady."

"It wasn't a long meeting," I shrugged, "It's only about 15 minutes after the bus would have dropped me off anyways."

He shook his head. "That is _not_ the point-" His phone rang, and he answered it, and then left the room, motioning for Dean to follow him.

Sam was standing at the counter, his laptop open. "You need to let us know what you're doing, Aly," he reprimanded.

"You're going to jump on me too?" I walked over to the fridge and took out a package of chicken.

He turned towards me. "We worry about you-"

I gestured at the map. "Doesn't look like there was much worrying going on, Dad's only coming down on me because that's what he _always _does." I walked around him to set the meat on the counter. I got out a cutting board and a knife, and then started to slice the chicken up.

Dad and Dean came back into the kitchen. "I've got to pack for tomorrow, I'm going to go get some supplies and may be gone overnight. You-" he pointed at me, "You _know_ I don't accept excuses. I don't have to time to deal with it right now, but the next time you don't ask permission, there's going to be a consequence. You make sure you listen to your brothers while I'm gone."

"I always do," I rolled my eyes as he turned and walked out of the room.

Dean stepped over to me. "Oh, you always listen to us, do you?" He teased, "Little Miss 'I do my own thing and always get into trouble for it'?"

"Watch it, I've got a knife here, ya know!" I retorted, continuing to slice up the chicken. "Make yourself useful and get the frying pan out for me, okay?"

"Yes ma'am," Dean saluted me and got the large heavy frying pan out of the drawer under the stove. "What are you making?" He asked greedily.

"Chicken tenders and potato wedges and some kind of vegetable."

"Sounds awesome, except for the veg. We still got some of that barbecue sauce I like?"

"I think so, check the fridge."

Dad was distracted by phone calls the rest of the night, and took his plate of food into his bedroom to eat while he talked and packed. When I got up for school the next morning, he was already gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: In case you missed it in the previous note, ******Alyson is 8 years younger****** than Sam and 12 years younger than Dean. In this fic, she is 14 years old, which makes Sam 22 years old and Dean 26 years old. Just a reminder that this is an AU, and so the mythology surrounding the Yellow-Eyed Demon is a little different, and because Aly has been added to the story, his interactions with the Winchesters will be different as well. (which will be revealed later in the fic!)**

**Yes, Lexie Lou, I saw the recent episode where John Winchester returns- I was ****_really_**** glad to see him back on the show and I bawled my eyes out, but I felt like John was a little out of character and it seemed rushed. There was a ****_lot _****of ground to cover with him and the boys and Mary, and one episode just doesn't have enough time for that. I wish that they had written a story arc for him that lasted a couple of episodes. But it was great to see Jeffrey Dean Morgan back with the boys!**

**beckini, AshtynnAlba, aranow, Marryzinha Black, MariaKata, EmilyAnn McGarrett-Winchester, sjwmaw, emily, megfurtado, Lexie Lou, sueturpen, and guests, thank you for your reviews, it means a lot, and I'm excited that you like this update! **

**Beta'ed by alexofthegarden, crzedpanda, and edge_of_clairvoyance.**

**If this is your first introduction to Alyson and you want to read more about her, please take a look at my page, there are many short stories about Aly at different ages.**

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I had weird dreams all night- Sam calls them 'stress dreams'. Both he and I had gone through periods in the past where we'd had nightmares- and of course, he had researched dreams and nightmares and how to deal with them. When I was a little kid he was the one who could soothe me the best after I'd had bad dreams.

I guess I was nervous about performing. I'd dreamed about being onstage and starting to sing with the group, but then discovering that I didn't have the correct sheet music. In the next one, I went onstage with the wrong group. Then the dream changed, we had just finished performing, the audience was clapping, and people were coming forward to congratulate everyone in the group. Everyone except me. I looked out into the audience for my family but they weren't there. I had been happy about singing, but my mood dropped and I felt alone and sad.

The dream changed again, to one that I'd had several times as a child. I was in the woods with my family and Dad was teaching us about the leaves and trees that were there. But then I got lost, or separated, and I was alone. I couldn't see them or hear them or remember how to find my way out of the forest, and I started to panic. I ran blindly through the trees, crying out for my brothers and dad, only to come to the edge of the woods and see them at the car. I couldn't move forward, and no matter how loudly I called to them, they couldn't hear me. They were busy loading the car up, and then they got in and drove away. Sadness rose up in me like a wave-

I woke up feeling hands on my arms. Sam was sitting on the edge of my bed, facing me. "Aly, come on, wake up-"

"I'm up." I sat up, rubbing my eyes.

He looked at me with concern. "I heard you calling out, you okay?"

"Just bad dreams...thinking about the concert and worrying about the performance."

"I'm sure you'll do fine. Is that...is that all?" He paused and gave me a piercing look. "You were calling for me and Dean. Did you have one of those old dreams?"

The fear I had felt in the dream came back, and I remembered that it was the same feeling I'd have when they left on a hunt when I was little. I blinked back the tears that were suddenly in my eyes. "Uh, yeah," I cleared my throat.

He looked at me sympathetically. "Well, remember, that's just a dream, and we're all here for you. Right?" He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed.

I nodded. "Yeah," I agreed, although I wanted to say, _'Not really, you guys leave me all the time.' _

He stood up. "I'll let you get ready for school."

The next couple of days passed by quickly. My brothers went out to play pool one evening, and Dad was in and out doing research and getting supplies, so I was mostly on my own. I was used to it, though, so it didn't bother me.

The weather changed abruptly, going from warm and breezy to cold and damp. A thunderstorm rolled in while I was at school, and everyone was distracted watching the sky light up. There were a couple of lightning strikes close by, and then the school lost power. The generators weren't working well, and there was concern about the strong winds causing damage to the school, so we were dismissed early. When I went to text Dad from the bus to let him know what was going on, I discovered that I couldn't get a signal, that no one could. The bus driver told everyone she had heard that a cell tower had been struck by lightning.

The power was out all night and Dad had to bring in the camp stove from his truck. He also set up the emergency radio and the police scanner, and he listened to the weather reports and wrote down where storms were being reported. He had Sam listen to the police scanner and write down power outages and where they were occurring. I didn't get what he was doing, but he shushed me when I asked for an explanation. Dean heated up canned food for dinner. We ate by candlelight that night, and I went to bed early.

They left in the morning while I was getting ready for school. Even though I'd gotten more sleep than usual, I had woken up with a mild headache, and I could tell by Sam's face that he wasn't feeling well either.

"Headache?" I asked him in the kitchen.

He nodded. "A little...you?"

I nodded back, and he stepped over to me. "C'mere." He ran his fingers through my hair and then gently massaged my scalp and forehead. I closed my eyes, feeling myself relax.

He chuckled. "Still works like a charm, just like when you were little. I remember when you tried to rub my face and ended up poking me in the eye."

"Well, you always make me feel better, I wanted to do it for you."

"I know. You're a good kid. Is it helping?" He ran his fingers through my hair again.

I opened my eyes and looked up at him gratefully. "Yeah, Sammy, thanks."

Dean opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of ibuprofen, shaking it. "For the headache twins." He set the bottle down and then got out 2 glasses and filled them with water. He opened the bottle and handed me and Sam a couple of pills each.

I smiled at him. "Thanks, Dean." I swallowed the medicine and set my glass in the sink.

Dad walked in and set his coffee mug on the counter. "Don't forget, call or text when you leave-"

"-and call or text when you get to where you're going," I said along with him, "I _know,_ Dad."

He pulled me to him for one of his bear hugs and for a second I couldn't breathe. He always gives me a big hug when he leaves on a hunt, and it was something I didn't mind. Then he kissed my forehead and said gruffly, "Stay safe."

Dean was next. He grabbed me and tickled my sides and then gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. "Be good," he told me with a grin.

"You too," I said, "Don't forget to pack some condoms," I smirked at him.

"Alyson!" Dean exclaimed, shocked.

Dad smacked my butt. "Watch your mouth!" He said sternly. I guessed neither of them realized that I knew what a player Dean was.

"I was just joking!" I protested, feeling my face get red with embarrassment.

"That's not something you should be joking about. Come here," Sam said, leaning down to hug me. He lifted me off the floor. "Break a leg this weekend. You guys should do well." He gave me a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be thinking about you," he told me quietly.

"All right, let's get this show on the road," Dean shouldered a duffle and gave me a wink.

"Alyson, lock up behind us," Dad told me.

I stood at the front door and watched as they walked to the Impala. Dad got behind the wheel as my brothers loaded the bags into the trunk. Sam gave me a wave from the back seat as the car pulled away from the curb. I closed the door, turned the deadbolt, and went to load my books into my backpack. Whenever they left on a hunt, I always had a jumble of feelings- fear and worry, anger and sadness- in my chest, but I had long since learned to just live with them. My family was saving people's lives, and that's what mattered.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

My phone started ringing as I walked through the door of our house.

It was Dad, and he sounded pissed. "You're _late_ checking in," he said loudly, "Where the _hell_ have you been?"

I could hear voices and music in the background. It was close to dinner time, so they were probably at a diner or a bar.

"Ms. Brown had one last rehearsal after school before tomorrow. I couldn't call because my phone was in my locker and I didn't get it until we left," I explained hurriedly, "I'm sorry."

"You didn't walk home, did you?" Dad's voice was a stern growl.

"No sir, Haley's mom gave a couple of us rides home."

"All right then. Here, Sam wants to talk to you," I heard rustling and then Sam came on the line. "Aly, is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I had a rehearsal after school, it was last minute."

"What time is the concert tomorrow?" he asked.

"Oh, I found out that the concert starts at 10:00 but we're not performing until 11:30. I don't know if we have to stay for the whole thing. The elementary schools are performing later and their bands are always, you know, not that good," I told him.

Sam chuckled. "Elementary school band concerts are really for the parents of the kids in the band. Nobody else should be forced to listen to that."

I laughed. "You got that right!"

"You nervous about the audition?"

"Not yet. I will be tomorrow," I replied.

"All right, I gotta go. Doors and windows all locked up and salted?'

"_Yes,_ Sam!" I said with annoyance.

"Hey, I gotta make sure my baby sister's safe. Love ya, kiddo."

"Love you guys back. 'Night," I hung up and went to the kitchen to make myself some dinner.

In the morning, I texted Dad, "_Good morning. Jenny's mom is here now._ _Leaving for Fine Arts Fest."_

He texted back, "_Break a leg."_ Sam probably told him to say that.

We hung out in the choir room at the Middle School while we were waiting to perform.

My friends and I went back and forth between the classroom and the bathroom, to check makeup and whatnot. Haley had brought a whole bag of supplies- makeup, barrettes, two different kinds of hair spray, and even a curling iron.

Mrs. Brown gathered us around the piano to warm up our voices. After we had done some vocal exercises and sung through part of a song, she nodded in satisfaction. "I think we're going to sound great! Remember to _smile_ for the judges and for your families!"

Haley rolled her eyes. "My mom is in the front row with a video camera, so don't do anything embarrassing!"

"My grandparents are here with my mom and dad, my little brother is in the elementary school band too." Josh said.

James looked over at me. "Hey, Aly, I thought I saw your brother's sweet car in the parking lot."

"Probably not," I told him, "He's, uh- they're not- my family is- out of town, they're helping...a relative move." I blushed a little, feeling like everyone could see through my dumb excuse.

I got nervous as we walked onstage, the auditorium was packed, and there were even people standing at the very back. I thought I saw Sam in the crowd, but I wasn't certain, and once the stage lights came up it was hard to see what was out there. We sang through "Now Is the Month of Maying" with no problems, and Ms. Brown smiled broadly and gave us double thumbs up. Everyone grinned confidently at each other, and I relaxed a little- we had sounded good! I felt a little sad that my family was missing this, but I shook it off so I could concentrate on singing.

The other two pieces we sang went off without a hitch, and we were all feeling pretty happy as we left the stage. Josh and James stood on either side of the door and gave each of us a high five as we walked into the hallway.

We were meandering back to the chorus room when someone grabbed me in a hug from behind.

I turned, surprised. "Sammy!" I exclaimed happily. I hugged him tightly, tears coming to my eyes. "What are you doing here? I mean, how did you convince Dad to let you go?"

We stopped in the hallway, and Sam moved us over near the wall. People turned to look at us as they walked by.

"The vamps aren't really active during the day," he told me in a low voice, "Everyone's getting everything prepped and they don't really need me, so I ducked out to come see you. That was excellent! You guys sound better than you did at the beginning of the year."

"Thanks," I said, "Ms. Brown said this group works really well together. "

"I really liked the Mozart piece. Did you teach everyone the proper pronunciation of Latin?" He teased, grinning at me.

I was probably the only 14 year old in my school who could recite an exorcism in Latin, thanks to Dad.

"No, although there are a couple people I _really_ wanted to correct. They would suck at performing exorcisms!" I grinned back.

"Can you imagine, the demon keeps hanging out because the pronunciation is so mangled!" Sam laughed. He took my chin and turned my face slightly. "Makeup?"

My face got hot. "Uh, yeah, Jenny's teaching me how to put it on...don't tell Dad, please?" The other time I'd worn makeup in the past, Dad had gotten on my case about it. None of us had ever discussed if it was allowed, since all of them seemed to be uncomfortable with the idea of talking about 'girl stuff' with me.

He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "I think it looks good, it's not too heavy. The eye shadow brings out the color of your eyes, it looks pretty. Not that, I mean, you aren't already pretty."

"Sam!" I felt pleased to hear him say that, but also embarrassed, and my face got warm.

He smiled at me. "Well, you are pretty! Don't worry, I won't tell."

I hugged him again. "Thanks! And thanks for coming, Sammy. It means a lot to me."

"No problem," he said, "What time is the audition?"

"At 1:00."

"Cool. I've got to get back," he leaned down and kissed my cheek, and gave my shoulders a squeeze, "Talk to you tonight." I watched him walk down the hall.

When I went into the chorus room, I was greeted with, "Oh my God, who was that? He is _gorgeous!"_ From most of the girls.

"That's my big brother, and he's too old for all of you," I told them, "So don't even think about it."

Selena batted her eyes at me. "How old is he, I only go out with college guys. I could handle him." She laughed.

I rolled my eyes. "He wouldn't even look twice at you, trust me."

A couple of the boys standing nearby said, "_Ooohh,"_ and smirked at her outraged expression.

"Well, at least I _have_ family, and they're all here! My parents said they're taking me to 'La Petite' for dinner afterwards!" She snapped, and walked over to her friends.

Jenny put her hand on my arm and turned me away from them, walking us towards the other side of the room. "My mom's taking me out after, too, but it's not to a fancy place like that. You're invited too, if you want."

I gave her a grateful look. "Thanks."

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

"Thanks for the rides today, and for dinner, Mrs. Bragg. Bye, Jenny," I said as I got out of the car.

As I went into the house, my phone started to ring.

The display said, _5 missed calls from Dad._

_3 missed calls from Dean._

_4 texts from Dad._

_6 texts from Dean._

Uh-oh. However, this call was from Sam's phone.

"Hey, I think we nailed the audition!" I said happily.

"Just where in the hell have you been?" Dean growled.

"I-I just got home. Why do you have Sam's phone?"

"I just grabbed a phone, thought it was mine. Why didn't you call earlier?" His voice was laced with disapproval.

"Gee, no, 'hey, how'd the concert go?' or anything?" I snapped. "Thanks for caring!"

"Ditch the attitude, kid. Dad called you a bunch of times and thought you were avoiding him, so I told him I'd take over." I heard rustling, and then he called, "I'm talking to her now, Dad, she's okay!"

"I wasn't avoiding him, I-I left my phone in the car!" I huffed.

"I guess that explains why it wasn't moving," he said almost to himself, "How many times-"

I interrupted him. "What? What does that mean?"

"Dad enabled the GPS on your phone, and we could see that it was in one spot for a while. So the question is, why were you out so late?" Dean asked forbiddingly.

"Wait, Dad _enabled the GPS_ on my phone? Why, so he could _spy _on me? He _really_ doesn't trust me, does he? That's not fair!" My voice broke and I was glad they weren't there, because tears welled up in my eyes and started spilling down my cheeks.

"Hey, easy! We want to be able to see where you are, in case there are times when you can't call or text. It's not an issue of trust," Dean said gruffly, and I wondered if he could tell that I was crying. "However, there _is_ the issue that you're not supposed to be out after dark, and yet here you are."

"I'm sorry, Jenny's mother took us out to dinner. I left my purse in the car by accident and we lost track of time," I sniffled and wiped my eyes. We had been giddy with laughter when we had gotten out of the car at the restaurant, and I hadn't even noticed that I'd left my purse until halfway through the meal.

"Took you out to dinner." He repeated in a hard voice. "And did you ask if you could go?"

I squirmed, imagining Dean giving me the Winchester Glare. "Uh, no. I-I for-"

"If you say you forgot, so help me-" I heard him exhale loudly. "You _couldn't_ call or text in all that time?" He was unrelenting.

"Sor-ry!" I said defensively. "We were all excited and talking about the concert and stuff and I just- I didn't think about it." I wasn't going to tell him about my friends and I sitting around gossiping and checking out cute guys. It hadn't crossed my mind to call and check in with my family at all.

"That is _unacceptable,_ Alyson!" His voice rose in annoyance, "We've _had_ this discussion about cell phone rules more than once, and you should know better by now. And forgetting to ask permission to do something? Dad is _not _going to be happy about this."

My mouth went dry as I remembered the other times I'd gotten in trouble in the past about my cell phone. The 'discussions' were usually between Dean's hand and my butt, and I really didn't want that to happen again.

"I said I was sorry...do you have to tell Dad?" I pleaded. Dad was a stickler for us following his rules, and I really didn't want him coming down on me for everything.

Dean's voice was serious. "He's going to want to know why you weren't responding to our calls and texts, and I'm not gonna lie to him, Alyson."

"Well, what'm I supposed to do? I already said sorry!" I huffed.

"I want you to check in like you're supposed to, do what you're told, and follow the rules." He said firmly.

"Okay, Dean."

"And behave yourself."

"_Okay, _Dean."

"Make sure everything's locked up and-"

"I _will!" _I exclaimed. "I just walked in the door!"

His voice dropped a notch. "Watch your tone, little girl. You lookin' to get in more trouble than you already are?"

"No." I said sullenly.

I heard a voice in the background. "All right, let me finish this," he said to someone, and then to me, " I've got to go. Talk to you later."

"Okay, Dean, good night. Be careful."

"Yep." And just like that, he hung up. I put my doggy bag in the fridge, checked the doors and and salt lines, and went to bed.

The next day I did all my chores _and_ cleaned the house extra well. If I was already in trouble for breaking the rules, I hoped that Dad would relent a little if he saw how much work I had done.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I paced back and forth across the living room floor, wringing my hands and trying to hold back the tears. Sam had texted me that they were on their way back, and that Dean had been injured. He didn't elaborate, but when I read those words, fear and guilt had suffused me. I had had a dream the night before, and I couldn't recall much of it, except I saw Dean falling onto a dirt floor and crying out in pain. I hadn't known what to make of the dream when I woke up, but I didn't call my brothers and tell them because I didn't want to distract them. Dean probably would have scoffed and teased me about it anyway, he didn't put much stock in psychics.

But now I felt guilty- if I'd told him about it, maybe he would have been more cautious, maybe he wouldn't have gotten hurt. I hadn't said anything—what if it was my fault?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: sjwmaw, Lexie Lou, AshtynnAlba, sueturpen, and guest, thank you for leaving reviews! Beta'ed by alexofthegarden, crzedpanda and edge_of_clairvoyance.**

**Content Warning: John and Alyson argue in this chapter, and he slaps her face. She accidentally cuts her hand and gets stitches. Brief description of medical stuff. Swearing, because Winchesters. Angst galore and some fluff.**

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I heard the key in the lock and sat up on the sofa, blinking. Sam was supporting Dean as they walked in.

It was close to 3 AM. I hurried over to take Dean's other arm and helped lead him to the sofa.

"Oh God, Dean, what happened? Are you okay?" I looked at his tired face.

He flapped his hand at me and snapped, "Jesus, enough with the fussing over me! It's been all damn day!" He sank down on the sofa and sighed heavily.

"You're just grouchy because it's past time for your pain pill. Don't take it out on Aly," Sam told him.

Dad came in carrying a duffle bag, backpack and the med kit. He dropped everything by the door and glared at me.

"Young lady, what are you doing up?" He growled. He was a firm believer in kids and teens getting enough sleep, especially once the boys had started training and hunting, because if you were tired on a hunt you were putting yourself and everyone else in jeopardy. Bedtime was strictly enforced in our house, all of us had gotten in trouble more than once for staying up too late or fighting bedtime.

"I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you guys," I explained, "I was worried about Dean getting hurt."

"Dean will be fine. Go to bed, it's a school night," He rubbed his forehead.

"But Dad-"

He crossed the room to me in a few strides and glared down at me. "You really gonna start arguing with me?" His voice was hoarse, and up close I could see how tired and stressed out he looked.

"I was worried about you guys getting home safe!" I protested.

"And if you'd been in bed, asleep, you wouldn't even know that we'd come home. Now _get—to—bed."_

All the emotions I'd been through over the past couple of days- the anxiety about performing, missing my family, the discomfort of the dream about Dean and the subsequent guilt and worry- rose up in me like a wave, and I felt overwhelmed.

"All you do is tell me to leave! 'Go do your chores, Alyson, go to bed, go do your homework'! If you don't want me around, then why'd you even bother coming back?" I snapped.

"This is not about you. Your brother is injured- you need to _stop_ mouthing off and just _do_ what you're _told_ for once!" Dad's voice was like stone now, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. I had pissed him off.

My emotions were still a tangle in my chest. I looked over at my brother. "Dean, I'm sorry you got hurt." Then I glared at Dad, spun on my heel, and stomped to my room.

"Tomorrow, you and I are going to have a _discussion_ about this weekend!" Dad called after me in an angry voice.

Sam touched my arm as I passed him, but I didn't acknowledge him. I was so annoyed with Dad always scolding me or jumping on me the moment they came back from a hunt.

I got into bed and turned out my light, feeling tears come to my eyes and then slip down the sides of my face.

A few minutes later there was a soft tap on the door before it swung open. I could see Sam's tall silhouette as he stood there. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Dean says to tell you that was an epic bitchface you threw at Dad when you were walking out of the room." He grinned for a moment, and then sobered. "You okay?"

"I'm tired of Dad always getting on my case!" I huffed.

"He feels guilty."

"What do you mean, he feels guilty?"

"When one of us gets injured, he feels bad, and he always spends a lot of time going over what happened and tries to figure out how to make sure it doesn't happen again. It was rough this time, he's tired, and stressed, and worried about Dean."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't have to take it out on me," I complained.

"He doesn't mean to, Aly. You—you're a lot like me, and you—you know how to push his buttons, like I did when I was a teenager. Just—try and understand where he's coming from, okay?"

"He needs to understand where _I'm _coming from!" I huffed again.

Sam sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. I realized that he looked tired and stressed too, and I felt like crap for being grumpy with him.

"Sorry, Sammy," I said sincerely.

He shrugged. "It's okay. Hug?" He held his arms out, and I sat up and leaned into his chest. I put my arms around him and felt his chin on top of my head. "I'm glad your singing went well." He gave me a squeeze.

"Thanks." I felt guilty now, like I didn't deserve his caring. I wondered if I should tell him about the dream I had about Dean, if he would believe me. Sam always listened to what I had to say and would talk things through with me.

He let go of me. "Try and get some sleep, all right? We're home, and Dean will be okay." He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his tired eyes.

I decided not to say anything. "Okay, Sam." I laid down, and he pulled the covers up, tucking them around me.

"Snug as a bug in a rug," he said fondly. "Goodnight, Alybug."

"G'night, Sammy."

He stood up and left the room, closing the door quietly.

Sam picked me up from school the next day.

"Can you take me out to buy the stuff I need to make meatloaf for Dean? I told him I would make it for him when you guys got home."

"Hopefully that will boost his mood," Sam said, "He's been a bitch ever since he got hurt."

"He doesn't deal well with being taken care of," I said.

"That's so true. And I think being injured makes him feel like he's not in control, and he hates that."

He pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and turned off the engine.

I put my hand on his arm. "Are you doing okay?"

He looked at me quizzically. "Sure, my bruises will go away in a couple days."

I opened my mouth to say something about my dream, but his phone rang.

It was Dean, asking for some junk food. Sam assured him that we would buy him some potato chips. Once he hung up, we got out of the car and went into the store.

Sam helped me get everything I needed to make meatloaf and mashed potatoes, it's one of Dean's favorite meals that I make. Or at least, that's what he tells me.

Sam took the grocery bags into the kitchen and I went over to the sofa where Dean was sitting. He was wearing a white tank top and had a big bandage on his shoulder with his arm was in a sling. He had a pillow under that arm and his feet up on the coffee table, watching t.v.

I leaned down and hugged him. "Hi, Dean, I'm making meatloaf tonight for you." I kissed his stubble-roughened cheek. "Can I get you anything?"

He held up his glass, which smelled like it had had alcohol in it. " 'Nother of these," he said.

Sam came into the room and took the glass out of Dean's hand. "You're not supposed to be drinking while you're taking those pain pills, man," Sam admonished.

"Sammy, s'ok," Dean slurred, "C'mon, buddy."

"No, Dean, you're drunk. No more," Sam looked at me. "Go make a pot of coffee, would you?"

"Okay," I agreed. I went into the kitchen, started the coffee maker and got out a knife and the cutting board. Then I unpacked the groceries we'd bought-onion, green peppers, and breadcrumbs-and sat down at the table.

Dad came into the kitchen, talking on his cell phone. "Okay, I'll get back to you. Thanks again." He hung up and looked at me. "How was school today?"

"Fine," I told him, "Dean's a little bit drunk."

"I know." He sighed, shaking his head. "He says the pain pills only take the edge off, and that whiskey makes them work better. He's stubborn when he's hurting like that."

He put his cell phone in his pocket and leaned against the counter. "We need to talk."

I suddenly felt nervous. I'd broken rules over the weekend, but maybe if I apologized first and tried to explain things, Dad would cut me some slack. "Okay, uh, Dad-"

"What?" He folded his arms and looked at me, his face serious.

I took a deep breath. "Okay, well, I-I'm sorry I've been- giving you a lot of attitude, and I'm sorry I forgot to tell you we were going out this weekend."

"It's too late for sorry."

"Wh-what? What does that mean?" I asked. I started slicing up the green pepper.

"You've been mouthy for weeks now, and then this weekend, you didn't keep in touch like you're supposed to, you didn't ask permission to go out, and you broke curf-"

"Why does it matter if I check in with you, you don't care! And why should I check in with you when you can just look at my phone and see where I am?" I remembered that he had enabled the GPS on my phone, and it still made me mad.

He raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

The tangle of emotions in my chest was back."You didn't tell me you put GPS on my phone! Why did you do that! What do you think I'm going to do? What did I ever do to make you not trust me?!" I got angrier and angrier with each sentence until I was shouting, and I slapped the knife down on the table.

He straightened up and leveled a _look _at me. "One, you need to stop shouting at me. Two, it's a way of checking where you are if you're in a situation where you can't call or text." Dad's voice was deep and serious.

"Why do you have to constantly be checking up on me? I'm not a dumb little kid anymore!" And dammit, my eye were welling up with tears of frustration.

"Nobody thinks you're a dumb little kid. It's a matter of safety, I want to make sure you're safe when I'm not around."

I rolled my eyes. "No, you don't trust me. For _real,_ if you guys were on a hunt and you saw on the GPS that I was somewhere I wasn't supposed to be, is there _anythin_g you could do about it if I was in a bad situation? You wouldn't be able to do _jack shit._ It's just a way of keeping _track_ of me because _you_ think I don't know what I'm _doing,"_ I wiped the tears away but they kept coming.

"We would be able to find you with the GPS if something happened." He explained reasonably, "You're only 14, and I worry about you."

"I'm _'only 14'!"_ I was outraged, "I've done a _lot_ more stuff than most 14 year olds I know! Just because I'm not an amazing shot like Dean or a brainiac researcher like Sam, doesn't mean I'm _worthless!_ Give me a little credit!"

Dad sighed and closed his eyes. "I have _never said _you're worthless-"

"You don't _have_ to say it, it's-it's how you treat me! All you do is go on hunts, you don't care about anything else!" My anger jumped up a notch. The injustice of everything- of having family that always left me to go hunting, not having a normal life, them not being at the concert- welled up. " I-I bet you'd just _love_ to-to get _rid_ of me so that you could just go on a hunt whenever you wanted and _not_ have to make sure I'm being taken care of!" I blurted.

Dad's eyes popped open, anger on his face. "Alyson Elisabeth Winchester, _how can you say that?"_

I jumped up out of my chair, in a fury now. "In fact, I'll bet you never even _wanted_ me to be born!"

He looked shocked. "_What-?"_

I got right up in his face. "It's _my_ fault that Mom died, isn't it-"

"That is _enough-"_ He said tightly. "Don't talk about something you don't-"

The words kept spilling out of me. "I _know_ you blame _me! _That—that's why you—you leave me, why you treat me like-"

The sound of the slap rang out in the room. Dad shouted, "HOW _DARE_ YOU! _DON'T_ PRESUME TO TELL ME _HOW I FEEL!"_ His brown eyes were dark with rage.

I stood there, stunned, rooted in place with my cheek stinging. I stared up at him, tears spilling out of my eyes. He had never slapped my face before.

"The fuck, Dad?" Dean exclaimed. We both turned- Sam and Dean stood in the doorway, wearing identical expressions of shock.

Dad reached for me and I saw his face go from angry to astonished and then worried.

Sam hurried over, sliding his body between us. He took my shoulders in his big hands and turned me to walk me out of the room. "Okay, okay, let's cool off. Come with me."

Dean was looking at Dad angrily. "We need to talk."

As Sam opened the front door to usher me outside, I heard Dad call, "Alyson-" his voice sounded pained.

Sam held on to my arm, looking at my face. "Can I let you go, or are you going to take off?" he asked.

"You can let me go, I won't run," I said dully.

He let me go, and gently touched my throbbing face. "That's some pretty serious stuff you were saying in there. I've never heard you say anything like that before. Has all that really been bumping around inside your head?" Sam's forehead was creased with concern.

Tears were dripping down my cheeks. "I-I guess. I didn't really know I felt that way until I said it," I felt drained.

"Well damn, no _wonder_ you've been in such a shitty mood."

"I haven't been in any mood!" I said defensively.

"You _have_ been, you've been bitchy and giving attitude left and right. I've been surprised that Dad's been letting it go."

"Gee, thanks," I sighed, "Now what?"

"Now I need to wait for Dean to finish reaming Dad for smacking you, so I can have a turn." Sam sighed. "God, this hunt sucked. It wasn't well-planned, people shouldn't have gotten hurt. I've been worried about you, too."

I was concerned, I'd never heard Sam talk like this. I put my arms around him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'll stop being such a brat now."

He hugged me, and then let me go and took my chin in his hand. "You're _not_ a brat, Alyson." He looked into my eyes, "And it's _not_ your fault about Mom, and _nobody_ blames you, and we were excited to find out that Mom was having a little girl. So _stop_ thinking those things about yourself."

"You guys were... excited?" I was surprised, because they rarely talked about when I was little, and never about when I was born.

"Are you _kidding?_ After having two boys, Mom was _over the moon_ to be able to paint the nursery pink and buy all those little girly outfits and all. And Dad- well, there's something special about the relationship of a dad and his daughter, and I'll admit, I was a little jealous sometimes when you were real little. But then I realized that it's just because the relationship is different and that Dad and Dean and I had our own kind of special relationship."

"You were jealous of _me?"_ I was amazed.

Sam let go of me. "Yeah, you know, I was still a kid when you were born, and there was a lot of 'Help Mom with the baby, Sam', and then later it was 'Watch your sister, Sam'. But you know things changed when Mom..." he looked down at the ground, and then back at me. "Then when Dad started training us, things changed again. And by then I was taking care of you." He pulled me in for another hug, and we stood that way for a couple of minutes. I listened to Sam's heart beat in his chest and it helped me to calm down.

Eventually, Sam let me go. "You better now?"

"Yeah, thanks, Sammy," I said gratefully.

"Let's go back inside," he offered me his hand and I took it and let him lead me back inside.

I followed him in and went to the kitchen. There was a half- empty bottle of Dewar's on the counter and one of the cabinets was partially opened- Dad had probably grabbed a drink.

I finished chopping the pepper and started on the onion. It made my eyes sting and burn even more than usual, I don't know if it was because I had already been crying, but my eyes teared up all of a sudden, so much so that I couldn't see what I was doing, and I felt the knife slip and then a sharp pain in the base of my thumb. I wiped my eyes with the back of my wrist and looked down and saw red. A lot of red, coming from my hand.

"Hey, kiddo, are you- what happened?" Dean had come to the door, but when he saw the blood, he rushed over and grabbed a dishcloth. "What did you do?" He asked, wrapping the cloth around my hand.

"Uh-" I looked down. There was so much blood, the dishcloth was already soaking through, and it was so red- my vision started to go gray and there was roaring in my ears. I felt myself moving through the air and then I collided with something hard.

"Guys! Aly's bleeding! Sam! Dad! Get the fuck out here, she's down!" I heard Dean yelling, and then I heard quick footsteps.

My vision cleared and I realized I was laying on the floor.

"What happened?" I heard Dad say. He knelt down on one knee in front of me and propped me up. "Alyson. Alyson, are you okay?" He said urgently.

"I was dicing the onion and my eyes got all teary and I couldn't see and the knife slipped." I babbled.

"Can you stand up?" Dad helped me up and Sam pulled a chair out from the table. Dad sat me in the chair and watched me. "Let me know if you're gonna pass out again."

"I'm okay."

"Let's see this," Dad's calloused hands were gentle as he took my wrist and unwrapped the towel.

Sam sucked in his breath when he saw my hand. "That looks deep."

"Get the med kit and some towels. I've got to clean this up," Dad said. Sam left the room.

I looked up at Dad and my eyes filled with tears. "Daddy, I'm sorry-" I started.

He looked at me, his eyes sad, and briefly cupped my cheek with his hand. "No, sweetheart, _I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have-" Then his face changed and became no-nonsense. "We'll talk later. We need to focus on this right now."

Sam came back in with the bag and started putting stuff on the table. He slipped a folded towel under my hand.

Dad poured Chlorhexidine over the cut and I gasped. "Dammit that stings!" I swore, then looked up guiltily, "Sorry, Dad."

"Don't worry about it," he said tersely. He blotted my hand and then started examining the cut, turning my hand to the side and using his finger to gently test the edges of the wound. His eyes were intense; he was in "The Zone". He had been a soldier in Vietnam, and while he never talked about it, I think he must have had some medical training, because he knew a lot more than the average person about wound care and certain medical procedures. I had seen him stitch up and splint and bandage people before. When he worked, he went to a place where he was very quiet and intense.

He glanced at me. "Alyson, I hate to say this, but you need stitches."

"Okay," I said, "Let me get my shoes on and we can go."

Dad looked confused. "Go where?"

"To the hospital."

Dean put his hand on my shoulder. "We don't need a hospital for this, Sam's the best at sutures of any hunters out there."

"Go wash up, Sammy. Twice, and then glove up." Dad directed.

"Yes sir," Sam said. He walked over to the sink and began to scrub his hands.

"I don't want stitches! Is it going to hurt?" I got scared.

"I have some numbing spray that will help, but it is going to be... uncomfortable," Dad glanced at Dean. "You sober yet? Because we're gonna need your help."

"Uh, yeah. I don't know how I can help, though," Dean gestured at his shoulder.

"I don't want stitches!" I repeated. "Can't we just bandage it?"

"No, because of where this wound is, too much movement would make it open right back up. It needs to be sutured."

"Dad, I-I'm scared," I said, feeling like a little kid.

"I know, Pumpkin. You'll get through it just fine," he smiled at me and I almost cried. When had he stopped calling me Pumpkin? Probably when I turned into a sassy pre-teen who was angry about being left with people that I barely knew, while he took both my brothers away with him on the weekends so they could go fight monsters.

He turned and rifled through the med duffle, looking at the different bottles of pills until he pulled one out to examine the label.

"How much do you weigh, Alyson?"

"What? Why do you need to know that?" I asked defensively.

"Geez, Dad, don't you know you're never supposed to ask a chick about her weight?" Dean joked.

"I want to give you some pain medication, but this is strong stuff, so I want to give you a low dose of it." Dad looked at me.

"I weighed myself at Jenny's house a couple of weeks ago, I think I was like 95 pounds?"

"All right," Dad opened the bottle and shook out a huge white pill, holding his hand out to show it to me. "I'm going to give you about a third of this, think you can swallow it, or do you need to me grind it up?"

"I can swallow it," I said.

He walked over to the counter, got out a knife to cut the pill, and brought it over with a small glass of water. "It's going to take a while to get into your system. By the time we're through, it should be working, and like I said it'll help relax you."

I swallowed the pill, grimacing at the roughness of the cut edge.

Dad unwrapped a set of sterile gloves for Sam, who put them on. He looked at Dad. "Where do you want to do this?"

"Let's try it here," Dad said. He gave Sam a sterile needle and Sam threaded it. Then he sat down and took my hand, examining it the same way Dad had.

Dad put his hand on my shoulder. "Alyson, you have to stay completely still. Can you do that?"

I shifted nervously. "Um, yeah, I guess."

Dad dried the wound with a gauze pad, and then sprayed the numbing spray on it.

"Let's give it a moment to kick in."

The spray was cool on my skin and tingled slightly. I swallowed, my mouth going dry.

"Okay, ready?" Sam smiled at me. He took my hand and turned it. "Keep it just like that." He picked up the needle.

I started to feel light-headed as I watched Sam pass the needle through the first time. It didn't hurt exactly, but I could feel the needle moving in and out of my skin.

"I—I don't want to do this!" I exclaimed.

"Let's just get it done." Dad said in a calm voice.

Sam put another stitch in and I jerked my hand and whimpered. He looked up at me. "You have to _keep still,"_ he said sternly.

"I—I don't—I—can't-"

Dad moved next to me. He put his hand on my arm, holding it down. "Dean-" He motioned with his head.

Dean stepped over to the other side of me, putting his good arm around me and holding my head against him. "Close your eyes, don't look. Take deep breaths."

I slipped my other arm around his waist and grabbed on to the back of his shirt, closing my eyes. "I don't like this!" I whimpered again.

"I know, honey, but it's got to be done." Dean smoothed his hand over my hair again and again, and it helped calm me down. My head started to feel funny, and I leaned against him.

"All right, almost finished," I heard Sam's voice. "One more...lemme tie it off now." I heard scissors snipping, and then Dad let go of my arm.

"Looks great, Sammy," Dad said in a satisfied voice.

"Thanks," Sam sounded pleased with himself. "Good job, Aly."

Dean let go of me and I opened my eyes and sat back.

"How are you feeling?" Dad asked.

"Umm...a little tired." I looked at my hand- the stitches stood out in a dark line against my skin. I stood up, and felt dizzy. Dad put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back into the chair.

"Sit down, the medicine is kicking in. Let's clean this up." Dad looked at me. "If you tell me how you make the meatloaf, I'll finish it up for you."

"Aww, I wanted Aly to make it, hers is the best!" Dean complained.

"Well, she's in no condition to be cooking, and neither are you. Sam, you can deal with the potatoes, just do baked instead of mashed, while I get the meat ready." Dad instructed.

I told Dad what I added to the meatloaf- he doesn't have a good track record with cooking, so I wanted to watch him.

Once everything was in the oven, he said, "Let's go out to the living room and sit down."

I stood up and got dizzy again.

"Whoa, you okay?" Dean grabbed my waist.

"Kinda woozy," I said. He put his arm around my shoulders and led me into the living room. I flopped down on the sofa and he sat next to me.

"No tickling me, leave me alone," I told him.

"Okay, grumpy," he grinned at me.

"What, you get grumpy when you're hurt, I can be grumpy too!"

"Oh, _I_ get grumpy? Says _who?"_ Dean raised his eyebrow at me.

I rolled my eyes. "It's common knowledge, Dean."

"Well, you've been pretty cranky yourself recently, what's _your_ excuse?" He teased.

I punched his arm. "Shuddup, Dean!"

Dad had sat down in the armchair next to the sofa. "Don't hit your brother," he said absently.

"Sorry, Dean." I said automatically.

Sam came in with two bottles of beer and two cans of soda and handed them out.

"Where's _my_ beer?" Dean complained as Sam sat down on the other side of him.

"Not while you're still taking meds, dude," Sam reminded him, popping the cap on his beer.

Dean gave a huff, and after a few minutes of flipping through channels, he settled on an old disaster movie with bad special effects.

I wasn't too interested in the movie, so I looked around the room. I glanced over at Dad to see him staring at me.

"What?" I asked. If I didn't know any better I'd say he looked a little sad.

"Would you come sit with me... like you used to when you were little?" He asked hesitantly. He seemed afraid of my answer.

"Um, okay." I said. I went over to him and sat down in his lap.

He kissed the back of my injured hand, then set it down. "I kinda miss the days when all I had to do to make you feel better was kiss your owie."

He put his arms around me, hugging me, and I leaned into him after a moment, realizing how much I'd missed this. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the soft flannel of his plaid shirt under my cheek. I slid my arms around him, hugging him back, and felt him exhale.

Suddenly I was crying, and trying not to. I turned my head into his shirt, attempting to stifle my sobs.

I felt Dad's hand on my back. "Let it out," he said quietly. "It's all right."

He rubbed my back as I sobbed. He smelled like the outdoors, wood smoke and pine trees. It was such a familiar, comforting smell that I realized I had been missing it, because I didn't snuggle with or hug him that much anymore. This awareness made me sob harder.

He put his hand under my chin and tilted my head up so I was looking at him. His eyes were full of regret. "I'm _so_ sorry I slapped you earlier. That was out of line. We've all been on edge since this last hunt, and I just lost my temper. That's no excuse though, and I'm sorry." He leaned down and kissed my forehead, and wiped my cheeks with his thumb.

"The older you get, the more you remind me of your mom," he told me. "And I just want to protect you and keep you safe from everything, because I don't want to lose you too. So I do things that I think will keep you safe, like give you a lot of rules to follow, or activate the GPS on your phone. I know it seems like I'm an overprotective hard-ass, but I really am doing it all to keep you as safe as I can without keeping you on lockdown." He tightened his arms around me for a moment.

I immediately felt guilty for all the sass and backtalk I'd been giving him. "I'm sorry I'm such a mouthy brat."

He chuckled. "You're fourteen, it's part of the job description. It doesn't mean I have to like it, and it doesn't mean that you're not going to get in trouble for mouthing off, but all kids go through that stage. You remember when Sam was your age, he got his butt walloped on a regular basis? That kid was so mouthy!"

"I remember you guys arguing a lot and him getting in trouble for it." I had been a preschooler when Sam was in his early teens and a lot of the time I didn't understand what was going on between him and Dad.

"Back then he had to prove a point and he couldn't ever let anything go. You and he are cut from the same cloth, stubborn and not afraid to let your feelings be known." He stroked my hair back from my face. "I just don't want you to think that I don't care. I know hunting takes a lot of my time, and I'm sorry. What you said earlier, it's not true." His voice became quiet. "I don't know where you got those ideas, but none of it is true in the slightest. That is _not_ the way I feel about you and it _never_ has been."

I felt embarrassed at my earlier outburst- I really didn't know where any of that had come from. I stared at my lap. "M'sorry I said- all that stuff."

"I'll tell you something- you were—unexpected. We hadn't been, uh, trying, for another kid, so it was a surprise when your mom found out she was pregnant again. And once we found out you were a girl, she was so excited, we both were."

"You both were?"

He pulled me in for another tight hug and I felt him nod against me. "Yes, and we were so happy. Once you were born, it felt like our family was complete."

Happiness welled up in me, and I hugged him back. "I love you, Daddy," I whispered. I felt safe and secure in his embrace, like I had when I was a little girl.

He let out a breath. "That-that's good to know. I've been... so worried that you hate me. I love you too, Pumpkin," He kissed my cheek.

The timer went off, and Sam got up to go check on the food. "It's ready," he called from the kitchen.

I got up off of Dad's lap, and he put his arm around me to help me to the table, since I was still a little unsteady.

"Well, this is pretty good, but Aly's is still the best," Dean said around a mouthful of meatloaf. "Man, I wish we had some pie too."

I looked over at Sam, grinning, and then at Dean. "Well, surprise, Dean, you got your wish! We did get some pie too, I hid it in the cabinet!"

"That was all Aly, she insisted that we get a pie for you as well." Sam told him.

Dean beamed at all of us. "That's awesome! Thanks, kiddo!" He reached over to ruffle my hair and squeeze my shoulder.

"Pie will be a good ending after all this," Dad gestured at my hand.

Sam got the pie out of the cabinet and sliced it up. We ate it along with the meal, and I felt more relaxed and happy with them than I'd felt in a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: EmilyAnn McGarrett-Winchester, Marryzinha Black, sjwmaw, AshtynnAlba, Lexie Lou, megfurtado, wandamarie, tamilyn313, thank you for leaving reviews! Yes, LexieLou, I am a Sam Girl, although I love Dean too. When I first started watching, I identified with Sam a lot- I'm a younger sibling and my older brother was very similar to Dean- and I didn't really like Dean too much, I thought he was an uptight hardass! (And a lot of my early fics reflect that, where Sam is portrayed as being nicer.) Marryzinha Black, I identify with Aly too, there are parts of me in all my characters. You're right, John doesn't understand Aly and how his different treatment of her has affected her, and that's partly what this story is about! He does love his kids but he doesn't know how to show it very well. Beta'ed by edge_of_clairvoyance and crzedpanda.**

**I've included some dialogue from Season 1 in this chapter, see if you can find it!**

**Content Warning for Angst. Aly gets spanked in this chapter. If this will bother or upset you, do not read it. **

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

I woke up groggy, but when I realized what time it was, I tried to hurry. It was hard pulling on my jeans with my stitched-up hand, but I managed. I threw Sam's ginormous hoodie on over a t-shirt and ran a brush through my hair.

I came out to the living room in a panic. "I'm late for school! Dad's going to kill me!"

Dean was sitting on the sofa with his shirt off and Sam was working on his shoulder.

Sam glanced at me. "Dad decided to let you stay home."

"AAH!" Dean exclaimed, "Yank the tape off a little faster next time, bitch," he said sarcastically.

"It's better to take it off quickly," Sam said.

"You _better_ let me drink today."

"We'll see. It looks good, no discoloration or anything. I think we should leave it unbandaged right now and let it get some air," Sam told him, "How are you feeling? How's the pain?"

"It's manageable," Dean sighed, "Right now I could go for a beer."

"Dean, it's 9 o'clock in the morning!" I said.

"It's Happy Hour somewhere, sweetheart," he said with a smirk.

Sam stood up and came over to me. "How is your hand? You feeling okay?"

"I felt a little out of it when I woke up, and my hand kinda hurts right now."

"That's probably from the medication, and it's worn off by now. We'll have to see what Dad wants to give you." He gathered up the trash from Dean's bandages and took them to the kitchen.

I sat down next to Dean. Sam brought 2 mugs of coffee in and sat down next to me, turning the t.v. on.

Dad came into the living room, freshly showered and shaved. "How is everyone feeling this morning?"

"Fine," Dean said, "Just wanting a beer or three."

Dad beckoned to me, "How is your hand?"

I stood up and walked over to him, offering him my hand.

He took my hand and turned it, examining the stitches, "It looks good, no redness or swelling. I want you to start an antibiotic anyway, and we'll try you with some ibuprofen and see how that helps." He released my hand and looked at me. "After breakfast, we need to have a _talk_ about this weekend."

I sank down on the arm of the sofa. "Uh, a-talk?" I didn't like the sound of that.

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, Alyson, we need to discuss everything that happened."

_Dammit! _I'd been hoping he'd let everything go_._ "But—but- can't you cut me some slack? I—I'm hurt!" I held up my hand.

"Your hand is not going to be the part of your body getting punished," Dad said dryly.

My face started to get hot. "Uh—p-punished?" My mouth went dry. Surely he didn't mean-

He crossed his arms, his eyes boring into mine. "Yes, Alyson, you're going to be punished. You know that I don't take rule breaking lightly."

"Dad, can we maybe talk about this?" Sam interjected.

Dad turned his gaze to Sam. "What's to talk about?"

Sam shifted on the sofa. "Well, it's been a while since Aly's- gotten into trouble like this, and maybe, y'know-"

Dad's voice was stern. "Are you suggesting that she shouldn't have to deal with facing the consequences of her actions?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm not saying that. But maybe, you know, you don't have to—come down quite as hard on her-"

"What _are _you trying to say, Sam?" Dad frowned.

"Can you guys not talk about me like I'm not in the room? I'm right here!" I flared, feeling my blush deepen.

"All right, go to your room, then," Dad said.

"But—but Dad-"

He put his hands on his hips. "Or, you can stay, and I can wallop you right here in front of your brothers. Is that what you want?"

"No, Dad," and I squirmed when the words came out in a whine. "I mean, I-"

He stepped towards me and pointed. "Alyson. Do as I say." He snapped.

I hurried past him to my room. I chewed my lip nervously as I sat down at the head of my bed. I could hear the rumble of their voices as they talked, but it didn't sound like they were arguing, which was a relief. My anxiousness ratcheted up a notch when someone knocked on the door.

"C-come in," I called, swallowing nervously.

The door opened, and Dad came in, holding the wooden hairbrush. My stomach twisted up in a knot when I saw it.

He walked over to my dresser and set the brush down. "Sam tried to talk me out of spanking you, because it's been a while. But you know the consequences for breaking rules and disobeying."

"But, the hairbrush?!" Dammit, I was whining again! "I didn't lie, Dad!" Usually the hairbrush was reserved for when I lied, that was a rule that Dad had made when I was younger and went through a period of lying a lot.

He put his hand on his belt buckle. "The punishment for the boys breaking curfew was always the belt, would you rather-?"

"Uh- no, please!" I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes.

"All right. We'll deal with this after breakfast-"

"I—I have to wait?" I blurted out. I hated waiting! There would be no way to force myself to eat, with the impending spanking looming over my head.

"You want to get it over with now?"

I gulped, and then nodded. What I really wanted was for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow me whole.

He picked up the brush, and came over to my bed, sitting down on the edge and setting it next to him. He beckoned me with his fingers. "Come here, then."

"Daaaadd-" I squirmed, feeling myself start to blush again.

"Alyson, now." He said impatiently, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor in front of him. I got up and walked over to stand in front of him, butterflies dancing in my stomach. I lowered my head and stared at the floor.

"You broke a lot of rules over the weekend, young lady," Dad's voice was stern. "Once again, you seem to have forgotten everything we've told you about your phone-"

"I told you, I left my phone-"

"Don't interrupt me." He snapped. "You're supposed to ask permission to go out, and not only did you not tell me you were staying late, you-"

"But Dad, Jenny's mom was-"

"_Enough." _He said in a clipped voice, patting his knee. "Over my lap."

I took a deep breath and laid myself across his thighs. He moved so that my torso was resting on the bed. "Give me your hand."

"Wh-what?"

"I'm going to hold onto you so that you don't hurt your injured hand." He explained.

I reached my hand back and he took my wrist and pinned it to my lower back.

"Now, you need to stop interrupting me and actually listen." He pushed the tail of the hoodie up out of the way and tucked it under my wrist. "You didn't check in like you were supposed to. You didn't respond to calls or texts, and you gave the excuse that you'd left your phone in someone's car. You know that is not acceptable, Alyson. We've been over that more than once with you through the years."

"I—I forgot!" I objected, and then I gasped as his hand cracked down on my butt. The sting was immediate, and tears came to my eyes.

"No. More. Excuses." His voice was firm.

"I- I'm trying to explain!" I protested, "Ow!" I yelped as he smacked my butt a couple more times.

"No. No more explanations, I'm talking, and you're listening." I felt his legs move as he shifted, and then he began to spank me as he lectured. "You didn't let me know you were staying late at the auditions, you went out without asking permission, and then you broke curfew. And this is on top of _weeks_ of me having to speak to you about doing chores and giving me attitude."

"Dad, I'm sorry!" I burst out desperately. "I really am sorry!" My butt was starting to sting.

"And that's supposed to make it all better? You _know_ that's not how this works. I think you've forgotten how important the rules are, and I intend to make sure you realize how serious your disobedience is." He reached under me to pop the button on my jeans, and then patted the side of my thigh. "Lift up."

I whimpered in the back of my throat as I shifted my hips, knowing this meant that my pants were coming down. He tugged down my jeans and then my panties, and then the spanking started up again. The swats rained down, and I hissed as the sting slowly built. He concentrated the smacks on the spot where my butt turns into my thigh, and my tears started overflowing.

"You are _going_ to start following the rules, _all_ of them. You are going to be _responsible_ and keep yourself _safe_. And you are _going_ to do your chores, and speak _respectfully_ to people." He continued to lecture as he spanked.

"Yes, yes, I will!" I sobbed.

The swats stopped, and I felt him lean over. "Your brothers did talk me into using the hairbrush this time, but young lady, if you _ever_ break curfew again, you can expect the belt. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Dad," my chest heaved. I buried my face in the blanket, knowing what was coming.

I felt the hard wood of the hairbrush tap my right cheek. "This is for breaking curfew, Alyson. Don't let it happen again." The first swat of wood against skin was loud in the room, and I cried out as it began to fall in a continuous rhythm.

"Ow! Please, Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I wailed.

He covered every inch of my bottom with brisk smacks from the brush. By the time he got to the undercurve I was sobbing limply. I felt him lean over, and he moved his arm off of my back. He smoothed my hair away from my face, and then rubbed my back as I cried.

When I had calmed down, he pulled up my panties and helped me sit up on his thigh, pulling me against his chest. I clutched at him and buried my face in his flannel, starting to sob again.

"Shh, it's done now," he murmured, rubbing my back again.

My chest hitched. "I'm s-sorry, Daddy."

"All right. I know. You make sure you do what you're told from now on, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You're grounded from your phone at night, for the next week. You'll hand it over to one of us as soon as you get home from school."

"Yes sir."

"And if something like this happens again, you'll write an essay on rules and why they are needed. In addition to the spanking you'll get. But there's not going to be a next time, is there?"

"No, sir."

He gave me a tight hug. "Sam should have cooked breakfast by now, I think I can smell bacon." He patted my thigh, and I stood up. "Wash your face, and then come to the table."

"Yes, Dad," I said obediently. I felt kind of embarrassed when I joined everyone in the kitchen, but it wasn't like this had never happened before. We'd all had our moments like this, appearing in the kitchen after a spanking with red swollen eyes and sniffles.

Dean heaped my plate with a mound of scrambled eggs, and Sam placed three slices of bacon next to them and set two pieces of toast on top.

"Thanks guys," I said gratefully.

Dean poured me a glass of orange juice, and Dad brought over some pills for me. "The white one is the antibiotic, it might make your stomach feel a little funny. You need to take it twice a day."

After we ate, I loaded the dishwasher and then joined Dean on the sofa for a monster movie marathon that lasted well into the afternoon.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

At dinner the next night, I asked, "Dad, I need to go over to Jenny's house so we can work on our English project. Can I go tomorrow?"

"Yes, one of us should be here to give you a ride."

"What's the project?" Sam asked.

"We're comparing Jane Austen with Emily Bronte, their lives and how their writing influenced later authors." I told him.

Sam smiled at me. "That's interesting. I'd love to read it when you're done."

"Sure, Sam." I toyed with my fork and looked over at Dad. "Can't I just ride the bus home with her?"

"One of your brothers can take you over after dinner." He took a bite of his burger.

"But-but we need as much time as possible to work on it, and I'll have more time if I ride the bus straight to her house. Please, Dad!" I tried giving him puppy-dog eyes, but he appeared unaffected. "Her mom said that she would feed me dinner and bring me home, so you guys don't have to come get me!"

"It's not a problem to come and get you. Where does she live again?"

I told him and watched as he thought about it. "All right." He nodded. "You can ride the bus to her house. But you _have_ to text me when you get there. One of us will pick you up. I want you home by twenty-one hundred at the latest."

"Why can't her mom give me a ride home? And nine PM? That's early!" I objected. I wasn't used to all the questions, usually my brothers agreed to whatever I asked, with minimal explanations.

Dad leaned forward and looked at me. "I will pick you up because I said so." He said sternly. "I don't want you staying up late on a school night."

"Fine," I said bitterly.

He frowned. "Excuse me?"

"We won't have hardly any time to work-"

"If you keep complaining about it, the answer is going to be no for everything. Is that clear?"

I pressed my lips together and stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork.

It was silent for a long moment and I could feel the tension in the air.

Dad's voice was a growl. "Would you like to leave the table and spend the rest of the night confined to quarters? Because you're real close to that."

I glanced up at him- he was glaring at me. "No." I said quietly.

"_Lose- the- attitude._ I mean it, young lady. Do I make myself clear?" He tapped the table as he spoke.

"Yessir." I said, not wanting to poke the bear any more.

"And one more thing. If you 'forget' to text or call me anymore, you will be getting a bedtime spanking that night. Understand?"

I squirmed, embarrassed that he was talking about that. "But, what if-"

He held up his hand. "There are no 'what ifs'. No forgetting. No excuses." He raised his eyebrows. "Young lady, I'm waiting for a response."

"Yes sir, I understand."

Everything had gone off without a hitch. I had ridden the bus to my friend's house, texted Dad when I got there, and we had worked the whole evening. Her Mom had made tacos and let us eat in Jenny's room while we brainstormed and talked.

Dad had texted me at 8:45 to let me know he was on his way. Jenny and I snacked on leftover taco shells while we waited.

"Alyson, a truck just pulled up out front," Jenny's mother called.

I grabbed my backpack and walked to the living room as she opened the front door. I wasn't sure if Dad was going to get out and come to the door or not, but I knew he didn't really like to make small talk with strangers.

Jenny looked out the front door. "Wow, that's a big truck!"

"Yeah, that's my Dad. Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Bragg. See you tomorrow, Jenny!"

"See ya!" Jenny waved as I opened the door of Dad's truck.

I climbed into the cab. "Hi, Dad."

"How did it go?"

"Good, we got a lot of work done." I buckled my seatbelt.

"That's good." He looked into the rear view mirror as he pulled away from the curb.

"Thanks for letting me, y'know, go to her house and all."

He nodded, and then glanced at me. "You've got a lot of friends."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Being in choir helped with that."

"I'm proud of you. That you're so dedicated to your schoolwork, and that you've got friends to work with."

I blushed, feeling happy inside. "Uh, thanks." It was rare to hear any kind of praise from Dad.

The radio was playing a classic rock station and I turned it up and sang along to The Beatles and Bad Company as we drove home.

He parked the truck in the driveway and then turned to me, holding his hand out. I looked at him with confusion.

"Give me your phone." He said.

"But—but Dad-" I was expecting to be able to continue texting Jenny after I got home.

"Do you remember what I said? You lose the phone when you get home from school. I let you have it to go to your friend's house, now you have to give it to me."

I frowned, reaching into the pocket of my backpack. I yanked the phone out and slammed it into his hand._ "Here!"_

He grabbed my wrist with his other hand. "Young lady, I suggest you stow the attitude, _now._ I'm not putting up with anything else from you tonight."

I sighed, dropping my eyes to my lap.

Dad let me go after a moment, and we got out of the car. The warm feeling I had gotten from his earlier praise was now gone.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn

The next day when I got home from school, Dean was the only one there. The weapons duffle was on the floor next to the coffee table and the knives were all spread out. Dean had the sharpening tool and a knife in his hands.

"Hey, how was school?" He looked up and smiled at me.

I dropped my backpack on the floor. "It was okay. Where's Dad and Sam?"

He set the knife down on the table. "They went somewhere to pick up some reference books, won't be home till late. So it's just you and me, kid. Want to order some pizzas?"

"Sure." I sat next to him.

He leaned back and put his arm along the back of the sofa. "We can order from that Italian- Greek place and get some soda and their 'Death by Chocolate' cake for dessert, go wild. You want that?" He played with a strand of my hair.

"I guess."

"You want some fries, or a shake? C'mon, it'll be like old times."

"Okay, Dean." I looked at him. "Fries and chocolate cake."

He smiled at me again. "That's my girl." He pulled out his cell phone and placed an order, then packed up the weapons duffle.

I got out my homework and did most of it while we waited. I pulled out my cell phone and handed it to him with a sigh, and he set it on the side table next to the sofa.

Dean paid for our food and then spread it out on the coffee table while I brought plates and silverware from the kitchen.

I sat down and grabbed a slice of pizza as he clicked the remote.

"Look what I found!" He said happily. It was an old episode of Scooby-Doo, one of the long episodes that was like a mini-movie. We watched it together, laughing at how simple the plot was and how easy it was to figure out the mystery. My brothers and I had watched Scooby-Doo together throughout my childhood, and it was a good memory. It made me feel nostalgic again.

Dean seemed to be feeling that way too. He was looking at me with a little smile on his lips.

"What?"

"I was just remembering when you were a toddler... whenever we'd get into a new motel room, you'd jump on the bed and sing "Cooby-cooby-do, weh ah you'." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You associated being in a motel room with watching the show."

"It was always on in the afternoons, and I'd watch it with you and Sam."

"Yeah," He got a faraway look in his eyes, and then laughed. "You said 'Crappy Doo' when you were that age, and I didn't get in trouble with Dad for that, since it was a character on a show!" Dean had always used colorful language and I had repeated a lot of what he said when I was small, which got him in trouble with our Dad.

He leaned forward and picked up his soda can, lifting and stretching his other arm out.

"How's your shoulder?" I asked.

"It's getting there. It's stiff in the morning, and I want to start exercising it, but Sam's probably going to tell me it needs to heal more. He's probably going to gripe at me for sharpening the knives, but I wanted to do _something." _

"At least it's getting better." I smiled at him, gathering my courage. I was going to tell him about my dream. "Dean, what if—if someone had information about a hunt and they didn't tell you?"

He looked at me curiously. "Well, I think I'd be pretty pissed off. What's this about?"

I looked down at my plate, held in my lap. "I, um, I-"

Dean's phone rang. He held up one finger to me, and answered it. It was Sam, calling to tell him they'd be back in the morning.

Dean disconnected the call and slid his phone back in his pocket. "What were you gonna say?"

I had lost my courage. "Nothing." I shook my head. "It was just a dumb dream is all, and dreams can't come true, right?"

He looked at me closely. "Uhh—I guess."

My phone chimed, and I leaned over and looked at the screen. Haley was texting me.

Dean leaned over, grabbing my phone off of the table, and pushed me away when I tried to take it back.

"Dean, give it!"

He easily held me off with one hand, reading the text out loud. "_'Talked to Rachel_ _tonight, she says she heard that someone might like me'_ —OOF!" I elbowed Dean in the side and snatched my phone.

"Why you little—c'mere!" He caught me as I tried to get up and yanked me back onto the sofa, holding me down and tickling me mercilessly.

After a couple of minutes I was panting and breathless from laughing, and he let me up.

"All right, go get ready for bed now." He shoved the back of my head. "And gimme your phone."

I huffed at him and handed him my phone, then picked up his plate and set it on mine. "I'll clean this up first."

"No, you go on, I got this." He smiled at me. "I had fun with you tonight, Aly."

"Me too, Dean." I leaned over and hugged him.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Haley pulled me into the row of bookshelves, waving her phone at me. "I got a text from Marissa, she said her brother and his friends are coming here!" She hissed excitedly.

I was at the library with my friends, supposedly gathering information for a paper I was writing.

"Now?" I asked.

She nodded. "Soon! Let's go to the bathroom so that I can check my eyeliner."

Haley liked Marissa's older brother, and we were thinking that the feeling was mutual, but we weren't sure.

We started to walk down the row again when Sam came in, holding a scrap of paper.

"Oh, what are you two doing in the Weather and Meteorological Phenomena Aisle?" He smiled at me.

"Nothing." I said, and Haley giggled. I made a face as we left the aisle- Sam had insisted on driving me to the library and then he had stayed, saying he had some things to look up. I'd been trying my hardest to avoid him this whole time.

We stopped by the table and grabbed our purses. While we were in the bathroom, Haley applied some blush and light pink lipstick to my face when she re-applied her own makeup.

We tried to act casual on the way back to the bookshelves. Jenny hurried over to us. "I just saw Bennett and Marc and Paul!"

"Did Ben ask about me?" Haley batted her eyelashes.

"I didn't talk to them, I just-"

"Hello, ladies." A voice said behind us. All three of us turned together.

Ben and Marc stood there, backpacks slung over their right shoulders.

Marc is supposedly one of the heart-throbs of the school, but I don't think so. "I don't see any _ladies _here." He joked.

"Shut _up!" _Jenny smacked Marc's arm and he grinned at her. They've known each other for a long time and were close friends.

"So...any of you going to the game next week?" Ben asked.

"Maybe..." Haley looked into Ben's eyes.

"Cool... there's a get-together at Paul's after, you goin'?" Ben tried to look casual.

"Umm...I hadn't heard about it, so..." Haley's cheeks got pink.

"Well, uh, you wanna—you wanna go with me?" Ben rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around. "I mean, all of you are invited, y'know-"

Marc rolled his eyes. "Oh for God's sake, Ben, just ask her outright!" He punched Ben's bicep, and then looked at Haley. "Would you do this gentleman the honor of attending the after game soiree in his presence, next Friday eve?" He said in a pretend posh English accent. He waved at Jenny. "You riff-raff are invited as well."

"Oh, you!" Jenny rushed at him, throwing a pretend punch, and Haley let out a little scream.

"Shhh!" An older librarian glared at us over her reading glasses.

I walked back over to our table. Sam was standing there, paging through a notebook.

I realized he was looking through my stuff. "Hey, what are you doing?" I asked irritably.

He looked up at me. "These are your notes? They're not real detailed."

"_So?_ That's why I'm here, I'm getting more information for my paper!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Seems like you're here to gossip and goof around with your friends, not work."

I snatched my notebook up. "Thanks, but I don't recall asking for your help. And I _don't_ need you bothering me about my friends _either!"_

He glanced at his watch. "Well, you'd better buckle down and get some real work done, we only have about 20 minutes left."

"Aww, Sam! Why do we have to leave then?"

"Dad's rules, you know that. The library's only open for a half hour after anyway."

"Dad's rules suck." I groused.

Sam tapped the back of my head. "They keep you safe, so no complaining. Get to work."

"Sir, yes sir," I mocked, giving him a salute. He gave me a look, and then walked away.

Jenny came hurrying over. "Haley said that Ben was hinting that some of his friends might be interested in _her_ friends!" She grabbed my arm. "I think that means _us!_ Wouldn't it be cool to go to that party with a date?"

"Yeah, I guess." I shrugged off her arm.

She peered at me. "What's wrong?"

I huffed. "My big brother was bugging me about doing my work. So I've gotta find some more sources before I leave."

She made a face. "Yeah, big brothers are obnoxious. Mine's always trying to tell me what to do, I'm like 'you're not the boss of me!'"

"Well unfortunately, my big brothers _are _like my bosses, they get left in charge when my dad—when he travels, y'know?"

"It's kinda like you have three dads. That must suck!" She said with chagrin.

"Yeah, it kinda does, sometimes." I picked up my notebook and walked over to a computer to look up more books.

In the car on the way home, Sam started grilling me on my paper. "What class is it for?"

"Social Studies."

"When is it due?"

"Next week."

"You haven't even started an outline, are you sure you've got enough time?"

"Yes, Sam, geez!"

He looked over at me. "I'm just trying to help."

I threw a glare at him. "No you're _not,_ you—you're just trying to _boss me around!"_

"I'm trying to keep you on track-"

"I don't need your _help!"_

"Alyson-"

"Just leave me alone!" I folded my arms and turned to stare out the window.

When we walked in, I slung my backpack onto the floor. Dean looked up from the couch. "Hey, how'd it go?"

"It was _fine_, until Sam started to get on my _case!"_ I complained.

Sam tossed the keys to Dean, who caught them out of the air. "I was just trying to help-"

"I don't need your _help,_ that's why I was with my _friends!" _I snapped.

Dean was staring at me. "Looks like your friends were helping with more than just homework. Are you wearing lipstick?"

"I-" I had totally forgotten about it. "Yeah, so?" I tried to wipe my lips.

"Didn't I say no make-up?" Dad rumbled. I turned- he had come into the room from the kitchen.

"No—well, yeah, but you just- you yelled at me and said I was too young, last time. You never made a rule about it!" I flared.

He crossed over to me. "Well, I'm making a rule now. You are not to wear makeup until you're older-"

"How _much_ older? I'm not a _kid, _Dad!" I objected.

"You don't need-"

I clenched my hands into fists. "Lots of girls wear makeup at my age! It's not a big _deal!_ Why do you have to _be_ like this!"

He glared down at me. "Because I make the rules, that's why! I said no makeup, and that's _final!_ Do you understand?"

I set my jaw and glared back at him.

His voice dropped a notch. "I _said,_ do you _understand?"_

When I didn't respond, he grabbed my arm and turned me, landing a couple of hard swats on my butt.

I gasped and reached back to cover my behind. "Yes, I understand!"

He loomed over me, still glaring down at me. "Make sure you follow the rules, young lady."

He let me go, and I turned and ran to my room.

I was half- expecting Sam to come in and try and make nice like he usually did, but he didn't. I tried to organize my notes for my paper, but I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with my friends at the library. I got ready for bed without saying anything to anyone.

I was almost asleep when there was a tap on my door. I heard it swing open, and then a voice. "Aly?" Dean said quietly. "Huh, guess she's down for the count. Think she's mad at us?" His voice was hushed.

"She got kinda pissy with me earlier, I don't know. She's all over the place lately." Sam replied quietly.

Dean sighed. "I hope nothing's going on with her."

I heard the door click shut a moment later.

"Rise and shine, kiddo!" There was a sharp rap on the door, and the overhead light came on. "Get up, you're gonna be late for school!" Dean said loudly.

I rolled over and opened my eyes, crying out- the movement and the light both made my head hurt. I put my hand up to cover my eyes.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Oohhh, my head, it hurts." I moaned. "Turn off the light!"

I heard his footsteps leave the room. I spread my fingers slightly and peeked out- he had turned the light off.

I put my hand down as Dad came into the room, followed by my brothers, who stood near the doorway.

Dad put his palm on my forehead. "No fever...describe the pain."

"My head—there's pressure inside, the light makes my eyes hurt and everything seems loud, it feels like there's a hammer inside hitting my brain."

"When did it start?"

"I dunno- when Dean woke me up."

He nodded. "It's been a while, but it sounds like one of your headaches. I'll get some medicine for you."

Sam brought the trash can over and set it next to the bed. "Just in case."

"I'm not feeling sick." I told him.

They left the room, and I closed my eyes. Images and feelings from an earlier dream came back, dark shadows moving, a sense of pressure and anxiety-

"Alyson."

I cracked an eye open and looked up- Dad stood by my bed holding a glass of water.

I propped myself up on my elbow, wincing as my head pounded from the change in position. He handed me some pills and the water, and I took them and drank half the glass. I set it on my bedside table.

"I called school and let them know that you'd be out today." He told me.

"Thanks." I laid down, wincing again as I settled my head on the pillow.

He looked down at me. "Well-"

All of a sudden, I wanted him there. I reached out and grabbed his sleeve. "Would you- stay- with me?"

"Uh, sure." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's- I thought you'd want Sammy here to rub your head like he does."

"No, I just- can you sit here for a little bit?" I remembered when I was very small, how it would make me feel better to know he was nearby.

"All right." He began to stroke my hair back from my forehead, and the repetitive motion soothed me.

"Scoot over." He said, and I moved over. He turned, sitting up against the headboard, and put his arm around my shoulder. I put my head on his thigh, and he continued to stroke my hair and run his fingers through it. It felt good to have Dad comforting me. Eventually I drifted back to sleep.

I woke up alone. My head was pounding, and I rolled over and reached for the glass of water on my table. I groped around, feeling the wood of the table, and squinted my eye open. I grabbed the glass and brought it over, spilling some on myself as I tried to drink.

I finished the water, my throat still feeling dry as dust. I slowly got out of bed, dizziness overtaking me as I walked across the room. I lurched into the hallway and called out, "Sam! Dean!"

Sam appeared at the end of the hallway. "Whoa, are you okay?"

I leaned against the wall. "M' thirsty." I held up the glass.

"Let's get you back to bed." Sam put his arm around my waist and walked me back to my room, tucking me into bed.

He brought me more water and made soup for me. I stayed in bed the rest of the day, and Dad brought me more soup and medicine for dinner.

I woke up in the dark, needing to go to the bathroom. I shuffled down the hall and stopped when I heard a thump like a book being closed.

Sam said, "I think you owe us an explanation. We've been doing all this work collecting information for you-" His voice was tense.

"I don't _owe_ either of you anything." Dad said, almost angrily.

I stepped closer to the end of the hallway and held my breath, listening.

"Dad, come on, we're adults now, don't you think you'd be better served cluing us in?" Sam asked.

"I'm still trying to figure things out. And I want to keep you safe."

Dean chuckled dryly. "Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap."

Dad's voice was stern. "_Excuse me?"_

Dean took a deep breath. "You know what Sammy and me have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be _that_ worried about keeping us safe."

I heard a sound like shuffling papers. "It's not the same thing, Dean. Once I have all the information gathered, then I'll explain everything to you." Dad said reasonably.

"You _always_ say that!" Sam exclaimed. "You want everything to be _just so,_ but it never works that way, there's always more to learn. We can _help_ you if we know all the facts, you'll have three heads working on everything instead of just yourself."

"Sam-"

Sam interrupted Dad. "The problem is that you're such a control freak-"

"Sam!" Dean interjected.

"A good hunter gathers as much intel as possible before a hunt, you know that. Now, I've been after this damn thing for over a decade, and I want to make _absolutely_ _sure _that I've got _everything_ in place so that I can get it, once and for all." I heard the clink of a glass hitting the table.

Now Dean's voice was reasonable."You don't have to do everything alone, Dad. Sammy and me'll help you with anything, you know that. And if we know what we're looking for, that'll speed up the process."

I heard more shuffling papers. "All right." Dad sighed. "Let me go get the other duffle with all my notes." I heard footsteps coming towards the hall, and I hurried over to the bathroom door.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned widely as Dad came to the end of the hall. "Alyson, what are you doing up?"

"Mm, hafta go to the bathroom," I mumbled, looking down at the floor as I walked into the bathroom and closed the door.


End file.
